


Lessons from the Crystal Cave

by RocknVaughn



Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: Alternate Ending, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, BAMF Merlin, Canon Compliant, Canon Era, Character Death Fix, Episode: s05e13 The Diamond of the Day, Fix-It, Gen, M/M, Written as Gen but Could be Considered Slash
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-07-31
Updated: 2013-07-31
Packaged: 2017-12-21 22:46:03
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,290
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/905846
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RocknVaughn/pseuds/RocknVaughn
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>5X13 Alternate Ending. In which Merlin is a BAMF and Arthur doesn't die.</p><p>                        o-o-o</p><p>“No,” Merlin said, resolve coloring his voice and face as he slid his body out from under Arthur’s and laid his beloved king gently against the dew filled grass. “I’m not going to lose you: not here, not now, not like this.”</p>
            </blockquote>





	Lessons from the Crystal Cave

 

 

 o-o-o

  
“Just…just hold me…” Arthur gasped from where he lay sprawled atop Merlin, his nearly dead weight pressing the slighter man into the ground. Gently, he patted the warlock’s arm. “Please…”  
  
Instinctively, automatically, Merlin’s arms obeyed even as his mind was screaming,  _No, no no! This can’t be happening! Not now…when he finally knows the truth about me!_  
  
“While you’re magical, Merlin…you cannot save my life.” Arthur soothed a gloved hand down Merlin’s arm in long strokes, as if trying to settle a nervous colt.  
  
“I can,” Merlin immediately responded, his grief rising like a flash flood that threatened to drown him. Every one of his heartbeats roared in his ears; a juxtaposition to how weak and thready Arthur’s had become.  
  
“Shhh…” Arthur’s breathy voice ghosted past his ear, ruffling the dark hair as it moved. “It’s all right, Merlin. It’s all right.”  
  
In retrospect, Merlin couldn't explain what had brought the moment to mind, but something about the uncharacteristically defeated tone of Arthur’s voice sparked a fateful memory:  
  
The Crystal Cave and the lesson that Taliesin had tried to teach him. Now that the moment was upon him, Merlin finally understood: Some things that have been foretold simply cannot be changed.   
  
Merlin could not change the signs that led up to Morgana’s attempt on Uther’s life no matter how hard he'd tried. Gods _knew_ he'd tried. That series of events happened as it was foretold; as it was  _supposed_  to happen. 

At the time, Merlin hadn't understood why he'd needed to live through that horrible experience and feel so terribly useless. But now...now it made perfect sense. It was to prepare him for this very moment.

He couldn't change the vision, however, the _outcome_ … that he could, and _did_ change. There was no question that his interference that night had saved Uther's life.

It had always been Mordred's fate to join Morgana’s cause. It had been foretold ages ago that he would be the one to strike Arthur's killing blow. Merlin had seen it in Lochru’s vision, and nothing he had done since had saved Arthur from that moment. Despite all his efforts, Arthur still fell by Mordred's hand in the Battle of Camlann.

But, just as he had done with the first vision, Merlin realized that he had the opportunity to change the outcome. It was what Merlin did  _now_  that would make the difference.  
  
“No,” Merlin said aloud, resolve coloring his voice and face as he slid his body out from under Arthur’s and laid his beloved king gently against the dew filled grass. “I’m not going to lose you: not here, not now, not like this.”  
  
Merlin was not Emrys for nothing. What they meant to each other and to this land was not for nothing. Being two sides of the same coin was not for nothing.  _It would not end here._  
  
With difficulty, Arthur turned his face toward Merlin. Worry and pity laced through his features. “Merlin…” The last half of the name ended in an awkward cough.  
  
It was clear to Merlin that Arthur was worried about how his best friend was handling what he believed was his impending death.

Merlin’s gaze locked with his and the determination he found there made Arthur’s eyes widen in response.  
  
“Gaius said that the only way to save you was to take you to the Island of Avalon,” Merlin explained as he hurriedly stripped off his leather jacket and used it to cushion Arthur’s head. “For me to get the Sidhe to help you. But that was always a long shot at best. They’ve never been your greatest fan, Arthur, and they  _certainly_  aren’t mine.”  
  
“Gaius is a very wise man and I believed him; I trusted him. But this time he was wrong. When he said that my magic couldn’t heal you, Gaius didn’t know what I know. He wasn’t there in the Crystal Cave when my magic was restored. He does not yet understand the extent of my powers. I can do this. I  _know_  I can.”  
  
Ever so softly, Merlin trailed the backs his knuckles down the side of his best friend's face. “Please, Arthur…let me help you. This is not the end; I  _know_  it more certainly than I know my own name. There is so much more that we need to accomplish. We have not yet fulfilled our destiny.”  
  
Arthur was tired and weary and, despite his very strong will to live, ready to let go. He had fought against the inevitable long enough and had earned a Warrior’s rest. But how could he, after everything Merlin had done for him for the past ten years, deny his best friend this last wish?  
  
Arthur’s eyes closed and his blond lashes almost hid the tiny trail of tears that leaked from the corners of them. “Very well,” he whispered brokenly, the combination of fond exasperation and soul-deep love for this man rising within him nearly stealing his ability to speak.  
  
Merlin blinked back tears of his own and then pushed himself up onto his knees, his hands held up in supplication. “ _Ic i ábene séo Líf Bune_!”  
  
Arthur gasped as the deep gravelly tones of the Old Tongue and the magic contained in them wound their way around him, as if the words themselves could comfort and sustain him. He watched Merlin’s eyes turn a burnished gold, and in the space of an eye-blink, a shining silver cup appeared in his hand: a very familiar looking silver cup.  
  
“ _Merlin!_ ” Arthur did not even try to hide the awe contained in those two syllables.  
  
A gentling hand pressed against Arthur’s shoulder. “Hush,” Merlin’s voice comforted, “it will be all right.”  
  
The warlock held the cup up to the cloudy dawn sky and commanded, “ _Ic i ábene se regnscúr!_ ” His eyes flashed molten once more.  
  
As if Nature herself bent to Merlin’s will, rain obediently fell from the clouds, a soft shower of warm droplets that plinked a tuneless song against Arthur’s plate mail and plastered his already damp hair to his face.  
  
Once the cup Merlin held was nearly full, he chanted, “ _Ic i ástynte se regnscúr!_ ” and the rain suddenly stopped.  
  
Arthur rapidly blinked the rainwater out of his eyes. He would have wiped it away, but his arm felt much too heavy to move. Even though his body felt weak and numb, Arthur's mind had never felt so alive. His brain was buzzing with the attempt to fathom the almost effortless displays of magical prowess he’d witnessed in the last three days: the elements of earth, wind, fire, water, and lightning all at Merlin’s command. His never noticing this essential part of his friend's being now seemed unfathomable; the power literally flowed in every cell and breath. It was arresting, exhilirating, astounding... and breathtakingly beautiful. He'd never known magic could be like this.  
  
Unaware of Arthur's fascination, Merlin pushed himself to a stand. The stem of the Cup of Life was clasped tightly in one long-fingered hand. Wordlessly, his eyes flashed with magic and a small stone table materialized beside him. Setting the nearly full cup onto it, he held both hands palm down over Arthur’s body. Merlin’s irises turned gold and Arthur felt the ground under him shift…and then he was slowly being lifted toward Merlin’s hands by a dais of solid stone that had formed beneath him.  
  
As the altar halted its journey toward the warlock’s hands, a soft smile touched the corners of Merlin’s mouth. He slicked a reverent hand through Arthur’s hair to push it away from his face.  
  
Merlin’s other arm extended outward. His eyes flashed and then Excalibur flew into his hand, handle first. He laid it lengthwise on top of Arthur, moving the king’s hands for him so that they lay on the pommel, trapping the sword in place against his chest.  
  
“What are you doing?” Arthur mouthed, his breaths so shallow now that he could not even push it outward to make sound.  
  
Merlin didn’t answer, but instead put one hand over one of Arthur’s ears and the other upon his forehead. The warlock focused his otherworldly eyes upon Arthur's face. “ _þu you heorcnest ond þu you ácnæwest._ ”  
  
Arthur felt the warmth and light of Merlin’s magic enter him…and without being told, he  _knew_ : Merlin had given him the ability to interpret the Old Tongue so that he would know exactly what Merlin was saying and doing.  
  
Again Merlin’s long arms raised into the air, palms facing the sky.  
  
This time when Merlin spoke, Arthur could hear, almost as if in the background, the words of the Old Tongue. But layered over it, Merlin’s voice now rang clear in the language Arthur knew.  
  
“With the power given to me by the Gods, I invoke the Rite and Ritual to Mirror the Powers of Life and Death. Here before me lies Arthur Pendragon, the Once and Future King, lethally pierced by a dragon-forged blade. Yet  _this_  dragon-forged blade,” Merlin paused a moment and laid his hand upon the flat of Excalibur right over Arthur’s heart, “has given you the required sacrifice in kind: Morgana Pendragon, the last High Priestess of the Old Religion. A life for a life; the pact is fulfilled. As my hand hath wrought the death of one, so it shall save the life of the other by use of this Holy Cup.”  
  
Merlin picked up the Cup of Life and held it aloft. Above him, the clouds parted just enough for one golden sunbeam to burst through, making both chalice and man glow with an unearthly power.  
  
In that breathless space of time, Arthur felt that this must be what it was like to look into the face of an angel.  
  
And then the moment was gone. The sun faded back behind the clouds and Arthur blinked as if he’d been temporarily blinded. Then he felt Merlin’s hand slide gingerly behind his neck to raise his head and the cup was held to his lips.  
  
“Drink,” Merlin’s voice urged softly, latent power from the ritual still infusing his voice and tingeing the outside ring of his irises with gold. Arthur obeyed, swallowing mouthful after mouthful of the coolest, freshest, purest water that had ever crossed his tongue.  
  
By the time Arthur had finished drinking, the agonizing pain in his side had completely vanished. “Gods, Merlin…what did you do?” he asked, feeling prickling through his limbs in small increments.  
  
Merlin’s face was as sober and sad as it was stubbornly unrepentant. “Made Morgana’s death  _count_  for something. Now her loss was not in vain. She saved the life of the Once and Future King, and with it, the hope of all Albion. Hopefully now her troubled soul can finally rest in peace.”  
  
“Oh, Merlin…” Arthur awkwardly laid a shaking hand over the warlock’s, squeezing softly to let him know he understood that the choice to take Morgana’s life had not been an easy one for his friend.  
  
Merlin nodded once in acknowledgement and looked away, his eyes bright with unshed tears. After a time, his eyes wandered back and a tiny smile graced the corner of his full lips. “Do you want to get down from there?” Merlin indicated the altar Arthur was still lying upon.  
  
“If you don’t mind…” the slightly dry, sarcastic tone that tumbled out of Arthur’s mouth on instinct inspired a surprised but delighted laugh from Merlin.  
  
Arthur didn’t even bother trying to hold up his own weight. Instinctively, he knew it was too early. Rather, he let Merlin slide him carefully down to the ground, the two of them sitting side by side on the damp earth, their backs resting against the stone plinth. He threaded his left hand through Merlin’s right. His near death experience made him unembarrassed and unafraid of the emotion behind the gesture.  
  
“There’s something I want to say,” Arthur began, his voice still rusty and now also clogged with unshed tears. He stared straight ahead, down the path that led back to where Morgana had ambushed them.

“I understand now what it was Gaius was trying to tell me that day. I don’t yet know everything you’ve done for me, but I have seen the toll that it’s taken on you over the years. I always knew you were brave, Merlin, but little did I know just how deep that bravery and loyalty went.”  
  
Arthur felt Merlin’s hand tremble within his own and squeezed the fingers gently. “I have a feeling,” he said, a little bit rueful, “that I will be repeating these words with embarrassing regularity in the days and weeks to come, but I need to say them now because it's obvious they are dreadfully overdue:  _Thank you_ , old friend, for all that you’ve done...for me, for Camelot, for the dream you helped me build. I don't know what I did to deserve your friendship, Merlin, but I am grateful for it. But above all, thank you for believing in me. ”  
  
Their gazes locked for only a second before Arthur saw the telltale signs. Putting a comforting arm around Merlin’s shoulders, he hugged the man to him as Merlin broke down and cried ten years’ worth of sorrow and joy and relief into Arthur's neck.  
  
“I’m glad you’re here, Merlin,” Arthur said with a fond smile as he rubbed a soothing hand down his best friend’s back. “I really, really am.”

 

o-o-o

  
  
Glossary:

  
“ _Ic i ábene séo Líf Bune_!” – I call forth the Cup of Life!  
“ _Ic i ábene se regnscúr!_ ” – I call forth the rain!  
“ _Ic i ástynte se regnscúr!_ ” – I command the rain to cease!  
“ _þu you heorcnest ond þu you ácnæwest._ ” – You will hear and you will understand.


End file.
